Chapter 8: The Devoted Maid, Ai Hayasaka

Is this what they called being fucking rich?

No—this wasn't just fucking rich. This was beyond rich.

How could it not be?

He just wanted to watch a damn movie, but Hayasaka Ai had swiftly booked the entire cinema in the mall, turning it into their personal private theater. And here he was, lounging comfortably in a luxurious seat, sipping on an expensive glass of red wine as if it were nothing. He casually let the half-empty glass rest on the seat handle before grabbing a handful of popcorn, crunching down on it as he watched the screen with a sense of indulgent satisfaction.

The movie itself? Not bad. Not amazing either. But entertaining, at the very least. What made it more interesting was the fact that the lead actress turned out to be a former famous child star—Sakurajima Mai, alongside Kana Arima. Of course, they weren't kids anymore. By now, they had probably already hit their third year of high school, maybe even on the verge of heading to college. And yet, their movies remained timeless, untouched by age, still managing to captivate audiences even as their fame had started to fade.

"How is it, Khan? Is the movie to your liking?" Hayasaka Ai asked, her voice carrying a slight nervousness.

She had been tasked with finding him a classic film—one that was still popular despite its age.

In the end, she had chosen this particular movie, starring two former child stars who had long since fallen from their previous heights of stardom.

The movie's theme and premise were eerily similar to Home Alone from his past world, with Kana Arima playing a girl left alone in her house on Christmas, fending off robbers in the most absurd and humiliating ways possible.

The way she completely outplayed the burglars was almost sadistic, to the point where they probably regretted even thinking about robbing her place.

His verdict? Neither great nor bad. The problem wasn't the film itself—it was just that he had already seen this kind of premise play out far too many times in his old world.

Home Alone 1, 2, 3… At first, the concept had been fresh, a goddamn masterpiece.

But the more he aged, the more times he rewatched it, the novelty wore off. It became nothing more than just another source of entertainment.

Nothing groundbreaking. Nothing extraordinary.

And so, without any unnecessary words, he gave Hayasaka Ai a simple answer.

"It's entertaining."

"Anyway, thanks for your company and help so far, Hayasaka. At the very least, I enjoyed it far more than that damn movie." Khan smirked, stretching slightly in his seat. "Maybe I'll even praise you in front of Kaguya—who knows, I might convince her to give you a well-deserved holiday."

"It's nothing, Khan. Miss Kaguya ordered me to accompany you, so there's no need to feel indebted. It's just my job." Hayasaka Ai smiled politely in return, acknowledging his compliment without making a big deal out of it.

"Now, let's head somewhere else. I've been curious about that place—Restaurant Yukihira." Khan stood up from his seat, casually stretching before making his way toward the exit.

Hayasaka followed right beside him, her usual composed demeanor unshaken as she matched his steps effortlessly.

"That place is small. Are you sure about this, Khan?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at his sudden interest.

"But not a single customer has ever called it bad, have they?" Khan countered without hesitation.

Hayasaka considered his words for a moment before nodding. He wasn't wrong—despite its humble size, Restaurant Yukihira had never received a single bad review or negative rumor.

Everyone who ate there seemed to walk away satisfied.

After all, it was the very restaurant where the protagonist of Shokugeki no Souma, Yukihira Souma, had honed his skills.

His father, Jouichirou Yukihira, was not just a chef but a hidden legend—a man with an identity so secretive it was like he was a final boss lurking in the shadows.

He had once been part of Totsuki Academy's elite, though he never technically graduated, making him even more of an enigma.

Even the main heroine of the series, Erina Nakiri, had more of a crush on Jouichirou than on Souma himself.

She idolized him, seeing him as the epitome of cool, while she could barely tolerate Souma, treating him with nothing but her usual tsundere antics.

What a Gigachad, indeed. The man had the heroine simping for him over his own son.

Khan smirked to himself. He had to meet this legend in person.

Maybe, just maybe, he could pick up a trick or two—learn the effortless art of being so ridiculously cool that heroines would get wet just from his presence, without him even needing to try.

Soon enough, they arrived at Restaurant Yukihira. The moment they stepped inside, Khan's eyes swept across the bustling interior, taking in the lively atmosphere.

The scent of freshly cooked dishes filled the air, and the sound of sizzling pans and cheerful chatter added to the welcoming ambiance.

At one of the tables, he caught sight of the protagonist himself—Yukihira Soma—moving swiftly between customers, serving dish after dish with practiced ease.

Hah…

What a nostalgic feeling, indeed.

In the past, he had been a huge fan of anime, spending countless hours binge-watching different series. Shokugeki no Souma had been one of his favorites back then.

But ever since he was introduced to the world of fanfiction, something had changed.

The excitement he once had for anime began to fade. The more he read fanfics, the less captivating anime seemed to him.

For some reason, he no longer found anime as enjoyable as he used to, but strangely enough, he developed a preference for reading manga instead.

Even popular series like Chainsaw Man and Tensura felt far more engaging in manga form. When he watched their anime adaptations, he always felt like something was missing—though he could never quite put his finger on what it was.

That habit extended to other series as well. He never even finished reading Attack on Titan or watching its anime. The last thing he remembered was Eren getting kicked by Levi after transforming into a Titan in public.

After that, he just stopped, telling himself he'd stockpile more chapters before returning to it. But for some reason, he never did.

As Khan stood there, lost in thought, the voice of a man snapped him back to reality.

"Welcome, customers. Is there anything on the menu you'd like to order?" Jouichirou Yukihira, the father of protagonist, greeted the customers one by one, skillfully taking their orders while committing their faces and preferences to memory.

"I'll have the Curry Risotto Omurice, Yukihira-san," one customer said.

"We'll take the Galette with Egg," another chimed in.

"My son would like the Beef Stew, and as for me, I'll have the Onigiri Chazuke."

One by one, they placed their orders, and Jouichirou jotted them down on a small notepad with practiced efficiency.

Standing beside Khan, Hayasaka Ai frowned as she scanned the crowded restaurant, clearly unimpressed by the bustling environment.

A slight crease formed between her brows as she turned toward him.

"Khan, do you want me to book the entire restaurant?" she asked, her tone edged with concern.

She didn't want to risk providing bad service to him, knowing full well how much Miss Kaguya valued him.

Having him wait and dine in such a packed establishment full of strangers wasn't exactly ideal in her eyes.

Khan glanced at her, then chuckled.

Khan let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "That won't be necessary, Hayasaka. We're here to eat, not to kick people out."

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice with amusement. "We're not in some generic cultivation novel where I act like a young master, throw money around, clear out the restaurant, and then get slapped by a Chinese protagonist."

Hayasaka's lips twitched at that, but she said nothing.

Instead, they patiently waited for their turn before placing their order.

With that settled, Khan turned back to Jouichirou. "Boss, what's the best dish in the restaurant?"

"Ah, young lad, if you're looking for the best dish, then you should try our Fragranceless Fried Rice. It's our most special menu item, made by none other than my son himself," Jouichirou said with a confident grin.

Khan smirked. "I'll trust you on that."

He then glanced at Hayasaka. "What about you? What do you want to order?"

"I'll have the same as you, Khan," she replied without hesitation.

"Alright, two Fragranceless Fried Rice," Khan confirmed.

"Got it. Thanks for coming to our restaurant," Jouichirou said as he jotted down their order before moving to the kitchen.

With their meals ordered, Khan and Hayasaka found an empty table amidst the crowd and sat down, waiting for their dishes to arrive.

When our menu arrived and the Fragranceless Fried Rice was served at the table, Hayasaka Ai's dissatisfaction from waiting and being crammed into a crowded restaurant instantly vanished.

The rich aroma of the fried rice filled the air, wrapping around us like an irresistible invitation.

Without wasting another second, we dug in, scooping up the golden grains of rice with our spoons.

The moment Khan took his first bite, he was hit with an overwhelming sensation, as if he had been transported into a world of pure culinary bliss.

Every mouthful of fried rice sent waves of euphoria crashing through him. The delicate balance of flavors, the perfect texture, and the way the seasoning lingered on his tongue—it was an experience beyond words.

But he didn't stop there. It wasn't just the rice—he devoured everything before him. The omelet, the side dishes, every last bit of food on the table—nothing was spared as he cleaned his plate with an almost religious devotion.

And yet, this was only the beginning. The protagonist was still in the novice stage of his journey—what kind of miracles would he create once he reached the pinnacle of his culinary skill?

The mere thought of it was enough to excite him. And he wasn't the only one.

There were still many legendary chefs in that anime world, ones he was eager to meet, to taste the masterpieces they crafted with their own hands.

Even Hayasaka Ai was no different.

She, too, wiped her plate clean, savoring every bite without uttering a single complaint.

The irritation she once had was long forgotten, replaced by sheer satisfaction.

With our hunger thoroughly sated, we ordered some black tea to finish off the meal.

As we leaned back in contentment, Hayasaka Ai glanced at me with a soft smile.

"It seems you really did recommend me a great restaurant, Khan," she admitted, her usual sharp tone replaced by something much gentler.

Khan grinned, leaning forward slightly. "Well, if you like it that much, why don't we make this place our official date spot?"

To his surprise, she chuckled. She didn't snap back at him like some tsundere anime girl.

Instead, her voice took on a nostalgic tone, as if she were reminiscing about something long past.

"Sometimes, I don't know why, but when I'm with you, I feel like I'm talking with Miss," she mused.

"But compared to Miss Kaguya, you're much more talkative… more informal… and honestly, easier to talk to." She paused before clearing her throat awkwardly. "Ahem… Sorry for saying something weird."

Khan shook his head. "It's nothing. You're free to express your opinion, Hayasaka. If that's how you feel, then I'm glad. I hope our relationship can be as close as the one you have with Kaguya."

"I hope so too," Hayasaka Ai replied softly.

With that, they stepped into the red sports car, the engine roaring to life as they prepared to head home after a long day of exploring Tokyo.

Khan leaned back in his seat, letting out a satisfied sigh. This tour had been incredible.

He had seen and experienced so much—things that once only existed in anime were now right before his eyes.

But for now, there was something else on his mind.

It was time to bond with Kaguya again.

He missed her. Seriously.

Really, really missed her.